


The Betrayer

by KallinFrost



Category: Christian Bible
Genre: Betrayal, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jealousy, M/M, POV Second Person, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 15:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11164317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KallinFrost/pseuds/KallinFrost
Summary: A rumination on the love of Jesus and Judas, from Judas' perspective.





	The Betrayer

He moves with Grace, eternal and beautiful, holiness made flesh, but He is still so much a man. You can reach out and touch Him, run your fingers over His shoulders in feather-light touches like the wings you feel He _should_ have— and He laughs, soft and warm, when you do. He turns toward you, smiles at you with such sweetness, catches your hand between His, tangles your fingers together and pulls you into roughness, into play, pulls you in among the others and makes you feel part of something bigger than yourself, like the stars, like the sun, like _hope._

You know you will never feel like one of the others, one of His twelve, for all He tries so hard to include you. 

You speak with Him late in the night, your lips pressed against the soft skin of His nape, when the others are asleep, because you always sleep at His back. He trusts no one quite the way He trusts you, to keep Him safe. That makes it all the worse, you think, because He tells you softly, so softly, that you will be the one to betray Him, you will hurt Him, you will pull the grace out of His mortal form and you will allow Him to ascend, _transcend_. 

It pulls tears out of your eyes that He kisses away with soft promises, with forgiveness, with the gentle pads of His thumbs over your cheek. He is warm and He _loves_ you, and tells you to be selfish, that He knows your jealousy, to remember that He forgives you for it. 

It does not make it easier, to see Him with the others. 

With Andrew, who had so much more reason to be jealous, who was instead devoted and kind, and preached to others of the man you loved. 

With James the Elder, a fisherman once and then so much _more_ , who did not know jealousy a day in his life, for that was simply his nature. 

With James the Younger, however, James the _Lesser_ , who showed his devotion not in lack of jealousy but in the bloody defense of what he coveted, in defense of Him... You can relate to that, to him, and yet you know one day it will be turned upon you. 

With Thaddeus, Lebbeus, _Jude,_ brother to James the Younger, argumentative and angry and still entirely committed to the cause he placed himself in; the Trinominous lacked jealousy, because even for all his many names, he knew his chosen Faith.

With Matthew, the last son of Alpheus and brother to The Trinominous and the Lesser, and so much more studious than the two fiery others of his blood, who wrote the soft words that He whispered into his ear, along with the soft name He gifted him, _Levi_. You were more jealous of that, some days, that even you could excuse. 

With Phillip, who was loyal and one of the very first to truly See and Understand, who fetched Nathanael when he heard Him speak, and who never flinched away from the blinding holiness with thought to himself, with _jealousy_ , the way you have.

With Nathanael, the guileless, who gave himself over so completely to Him that he would not have contemplated jealousy even had it curled around his feet like a cat. 

With Simon, who was often overlooked, who had every reason to be resentful, and yet was more a Zealot than any of your number; jealousy would have been anathema and insult to the man adored and revered in his sight. 

With Thomas, strong Thomas Didymus, who saw the worst in people but the best in Him, who could never quite _believe_ but loved nonetheless, and was not jealous because he could not quite see the Sun within the man you followed. 

Even with Mattias, who was not even counted among your number, who was with Him from the beginning and yet consistently excluded, still followed without wavering, without jealousy. 

You are so much less worthy than they, of His love, of the way He looks at you, and yet you covet Him more than all of them combined. You are so jealous, watching they way they move about Him, the way they adore Him unfettered by the painful taint of _knowing_ that you have, that the day is creeping ever close that He will mean less to you than silver in your palm. That your jealousy will outweigh your love. 

You hate Him as much as you love Him, because He forgives you for sins you have not yet committed, and you do not _deserve_ it. You deserve to be reviled, to be hated, to feel the lash in your back; you are the treasurer for the disciples, and sometimes you take the money you are supposed to guard, just to make true some reason for the self-hatred building in your gut. 

He notices. How could He not? You tell Him, even, when you press His palm to your mouth in soft kisses late in the night, begging forgiveness in the only way you know how, but He just smiles and brings your own hands to Himself, mirrors the kisses you lay on His own, warmth damning in His eyes. _He forgives_. It is in your nature, and He knows you. You are so _frustrated_ with Him. 

Why will He not hate you? Why will He not cast you away? You will be the death of Him. 

You want it to be that He is God, He is above emotion other than understanding, but He is not. 

He is so human, so painfully beautiful a man; He bloodies His knuckles alongside the sons of Alpheus in His anger, and He weeps with such soul-crushing sorrow upon seeing those who are so direly in need of empathy. He chastises with such vigor, the apostles sometimes appear to shrink before Him, when they have done wrong, before He offers them the forgiveness they seek. And yet He has never raised His voice with you. 

_Judas Iscariot, you have never given me cause. I cannot pretend to visit upon you any worse derision than you offer yourself, and I would not try. You need forgiveness far more than you have ever needed another man to tell you that you have committed wrongs._

You hate Him for that too, that He knows what you need, that He _gives_ it to you, despite what you both know the future will hold. You ask Him, always in those late, late nights, _how_. 

_How can You love me_ , you ask, the whispered name that only you call him hot in your mouth like Sin, but you are not sorry for that. One of the few things you do not regret is that you will call Him by his _name_ , not by a title, not by His parentage. You will allow Him to be human. _How do you not fear me? Do you not fear death?_

He hums, soft and kind in your arms, presses His back into your chest until you wrap around Him, evelope Him, show Him that He is safe and you will guard Him, you will protect Him, you will serve Him and His purpose. 

_Not when it comes from you_. 

That terrifies you, soul-deep. You have never been so important, always just a bit of a scoundrel, always untrustworthy. You have earned _The Betrayer_ long before it will be given to you, though you try so hard for Him, to make His name stand for more than that. 

When you betray Him, with silver heavy in your hand, it is in a moment of your own weakness, in a moment where you _don’t want_ to be responsible for that heavy weight anymore, when you just want it to be done. And He can feel it, in your kiss, and the way He _looks_ at you, at once sorrow and disappointment and forgiveness and understanding... it claws at you and tears you up from the inside. 

You can’t live without Him, not by then, and so you refuse to do so— and you are not there to see when He returns, and you are not there to dry His tears when He settles in to sleep that first night of His resurrection, back empty your presence, and you are not there to wrap around Him, to show Him His safety. 

You have never held a stronger regret than that.

**Author's Note:**

> I always appreciate comments and kudos, hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
